Meant For You
by SumsMasterpiece
Summary: Miyuki Kazuya is a Professional Baseball player whose social life is always on display for the whole world to see. But when his one outing turns into a drinking and driving incident, he'll have to do community service. Sawamura Eijun works on his family farm full-time to help them out. Miyuki is just counting the days until he leaves and Sawamura is doing the same. Then Drama.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

KAZUYA

I have never liked hospitals. Honestly, who does? With there lingering smell of old people and sanitizer, the too bright fluorescent lights with that one light that always flickered to cause annoyance, the winding maze of hallways and the ever presence of life and death.

Death was all that I ever knew that hospitals brought. The final stop before you died.

So when I find myself waking up to blinding lights and white walls with an annoying beeping noise echoing throughout the room, I knew exactly where I was. Shit.

"Ah, I see you came back to us, Mr. Miyuki," a nurse with silvering copper hair was leaning over me. She had gorgeous hazel eyes, swirls of blues and browns toward the center black of her pupils. She was cute, yet I knew she was most likely twice my age. Her scrubs were the same shade of blue that was in her eyes and the crinkles at the edges of her eyes made her seem youthful.

"Where am I?" My voice sounded hoarse and felt like sandpaper. The nurse turned and grabbed a white foam cup with a straw coming from the plastic lid. I eagerly took a few sips and was thankful for the pleasant feeling of ice cold water sliding down my throat.

"You're in Tokyo General Hospital. You're in a private room away from the public, I assure you," she hands me my glasses that are on the bedside table and sets the cup where the glasses were on a small table on wheels. These glasses felt different then my usually did. "Do you remember what happened to you, Mr. Miyuki?" Her eyes blinked at me, waiting for me to answer.

So I was right about the hospital part but of how I got there was still kind of hazy. Oh, wait, "Shit," I hissed out.

The nurse chuckled at that. I don't know if she found my anguish amusing or my little swearing was a funny joke. There was a knock at the door and I called for whoever it was to enter. In from the tiny sliding door came my father, my manager, and friend, Nabe. Nabe and Rei came closer to my bed and I sat up. The nurse excused herself and walked out the door with a quiet click. My father stayed far back against the corner wall, hands crossed over his broad chest and eyes glaring towards me. Eyes that I have seen for all my life doing that exact expression.

"So um, how's it going?"

Rei's chin tightened and Nabe's eyes went large. My father, his eyes narrowed into small slits and I could feel his anger radiate off of him. "How's it going? You're lucky to be alive and the first thing you ask us is how we're doing?! Are you mental, Kazuya?! You could have died. And don't get me started on what you possibly have done to your career. Did you even think about that?! What the hell were you even thinking, Kazuya?!"

I've never seen my father this angry in my life, and he was right about some things. Like my career. I love my job, I get to do the one thing I love but this stupid mistake may have cost it. But one thing is for certain, I don't want to tell my father that the feeling of numbness and freeness felt amazing and that I planned to get wasted. The driving, not so much.

"Toku-san, please try to calm down. You know your heart has been having problems lately." Rei soothes.

My father snorts and uncrosses his arms and walks toward the door, "Goddammit. When will you grow up and realize that your life is so damned precious." He slams the sliding door behind him.

One thing my father doesn't know but should is that I am grown up. I had to grow up fast with a father that was never home and a mother who was gone. It's hard being an eight-year-old with no parents teaching them about life. So I learned on my own. I learned to cook for myself. To do laundry. To pay the rent. To do everything an adult needs to do to survive. I was fine on my own.

The room goes quiet for a good twenty minutes before Nabe speaks up, both him and Rei already seated, "Do you remember anything? From your incident." Nabe knows that what happened to me was no accident. Accidents are things that could have been prevented but happened anyway. Accidents are not when I get plastered at a party out in a rural townhouse one of my teammate's friends owned and then decide to drag race and then crash into a barn.

"More or less," I push my glasses back up on my face, nose bruised and swollen. Nabe nods to himself. "I'm assuming you have been in contact with the coach already?" My eyebrow rose in question.

Nabe sighs and nods, "Yes."

"And I'm assuming they are not very pleased with the situation," I joke but his facial expression doesn't lighten.

"Are you fucking serious, Miyuki-san? They are furious at you! What the hell were you thinking to drink that much alcohol and getting behind the wheel?" Nabe's eyes flared and Rei was glaring behind her glasses.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek and huffed out air through my nose, an annoyed snorted coming out. "You know, Nabe," I started but couldn't finish, finally feeling a slight pain in my right side. I wince. Fucking fantastic.

Thoughts of my past I thought I buried start to bubble to the surface, one after the other. I just grab my side and close my eyes to try and calm my breathing. I read somewhere that learning to calm your breathing could help make a person feel relaxed.

"What is it, Miyuki?" Rei questions. Probably thinking back to my senior year in high school when I hid a similar injury.

I shake my head, "It's nothing, Rei. I just hope after all this I can still play baseball in the end."

She shakes her head and walks to the door. "For your sake, Miyuki-san, I hope you're able to as well."

EIJUN

I have never been this hot in a long time. I'm out in a rundown baseball diamond with twenty kids running around collecting the balls up from the batting practice we just finished.

"You are doing a great job, guys. After you finish up, we'll end practice with some laps."

The twenty little humans all yelled in sync and quickly moved around placing the baskets of baseball toward the storage shed. Of course, I wasn't the only one on this very uncomfortably hot baseball field. Even though I do work full time on my parent's farm, I do volunteer and help out my town's local little league team with practices. I sometimes wish they had a little league team established when I was younger but what can you do.

The kids finish up with picking up the baseballs and place them in the shed, along with the extra helmets and bats.

While I'm watching them finish up, I feel a tug on my practice pants. "Sawamura-san?" I glance down to toward the tiny voice and find Sakura-kun.

"Yes, Sakura-kun?" I squat down to her height.

Her face is pinched with discomfort and her knees are coming together, "I have to use the potty." She whispers out like she's ashamed that she has to do a normal act.

My hand finds the top of her head and I ruffle her light brunette hair, "Okay. Let's get everyone else to go for a bathroom break. Sounds good?" I smile back at her.

She smiles and nods. A small hint of color growing on her cheeks.

I raise my voice to get the small rugrats to pay attention to me. When I mention "potty break" they all jump up and down shouting that they all need to go first. I tell them all to line up and I take Sakura by the hand as I lead the others to the bathroom.

"Thank you so much for coaching, Sawamura."

"Do you possibly need anything for the club?"

"You're all Nami every talks about when she comes home from practice."

Three moms bombard me as soon as the kids were free to go home. They came to thank me for my great coaching and for taking time out of my busy schedule for caring about teaching children baseball. It was where the conversation was leading that I was getting nervous.

The mom of Nami places her hands on her hip, "You know, it's a shame that someone like you is single. If I was twenty years younger, I'd definitely wouldn't let someone like you slip away."

Being that was completely inappropriate, in more ways than one, I just scratch the back of my head and splutter out thanks before telling them that I had to start heading home.

Just in a few months, I'd be packing my bags and going to college not too far away from home but far enough that I couldn't commute every day. Soon I'd go to school to be a teacher so I could come back to my hometown and teach what I know and hopefully better kids lives.

Some of my friends that I have made think that I'm crazy that I would want to stay in this town. But they just don't understand. This was my home.

But in truth, if I was truly being honest, I wouldn't want to stay here. I would want to have gone to a great baseball school and possibly became a great baseball star. But I had to think realistically. And for me, taking care of my family was my number one priority over everything else. They had done so much for me, it was my turn to return the favor, whether I liked it or not.

So I buried my dreams of becoming a baseball star. But that never stopped me from reading articles on a particular professional catcher who I would imagine catching my own pitches. Fantasized about what it would sound like when the ball hit the mitt. It gave me goosebumps and other things when I would let my mind dream. And on those nights, I swear I could feel chills of the image of us being a battery: Miyuki Kazuya and I.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**:

KAZUYA

While sitting there in this courtroom while the judge is listing off my sentence, I had come to the mental conclusion that this judge was an ass. I had to force down a groan of annoyance but my father saw through me and elbowed me in my still bruised ribs. I sucked in a breath and exhaled it through my nose.

I sat straight, spine arching to make myself feel taller than I actually was at the moment of when the final sentence was charged and the gavel making its loud knock.

Moving to head to the hallway to find some privacy as I run my hand through my gelled back hair and loosen my tie that felt like a noose around my neck the entire time I was in that courtroom.

"Put that tie back on, Kazuya." My father snarled through gritted teeth. To either keep himself quiet or to try to cover his anger at me I didn't know or care.

I give him a glare of my own, "It's way too hot in here for me to breathe properly."

My father, all 5'11" of him, was a man of hard work and muscle that had seen better days, looking at me with such disdain, one would not think that I was his only son. "After your little stunt that you pulled, your reputation and image took a dramatic hit. Not to mention you now having a DUI on your record, most people's lives and careers would be over, but thanks to your manager getting you a great lawyer, they were able to have you get by with just a slap on the wrist."

My fist tightened and I was so sure that my eyes were glaring so sharply that they could probably pierce through my father's body. "You call working on a local farm for community service for six months a slap on the wrist?!" My jaw was so tight I thought the tendons would snap like a rubber band.

I didn't dare add the other conditions of my sentence, like going to a mandatory 'X' amount of AA meetings as well as taking multiple different tests at the end of every month to make sure I'm sober. This whole thing seriously blows. And with the thought of not even allowed any sort of alcohol to ease this stress, was bullshit.

"Yes, as any other normal person who would be given the chance. You're underage as well, so this just adds more problems to your image." My father took his glasses off while he rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, "So because of this, you are going to have to make a public apology speech to everyone. So that means you can't look like some rebellious teenager who isn't grateful to get away from this sentence easily." He placed his glasses back on, "So for God sakes, put the damn tie back on, Kazuya."

I closed my eyes and breathed in and out. And again. And again. Counting to ten in my head. My therapist told me that counting is a way to help distract the mind. At this moment though, I got to seven before I breathed out one last time and began to make the neck-tie perfect like it was in the courtroom earlier. Surrendering to just give what the old man wants is the easiest option at the moment. Just get it done and it'll be over with.

I slide my hand through my hair one more time. I swear, if I keep having to deal with my father's animosity towards me any longer, I'd have a receding hairline by the time I'm thirty.

But that would have to wait. For now, I would have to forget about this built up anger pooling in my stomach and just plaster on my face like I always do.

"Fine, let's get this over with," I head toward the large oak doors that lead to the front of the courthouse, knowing full well that the media were camped right outside. Waiting for me. I placed my hand on the handle and pushed, walking out to the bright early afternoon and the thousands of people waiting to tear me a new one.

Sounds fun.

EIJUN

I was walking home when I heard my name being called.

"Ei-chan!"

I turned my head and saw that Wakana was peddling her bike towards me with groceries in the bike's basket. I guess that the fresh produce is finally ripe enough to be sold in the town's farmer's market.

"Hey, Wakana," I wave and she stops to the side of me.

Wakana has been my friend since elementary school. We used to play a lot of different games and activities. She used to be very tomboyish back in those days. But as soon as we hit middle school, she became more and more like every other girl in our school. I never cared to ask why because it wasn't my business and everyone changes in what they like from time to time, but that didn't help this weird feeling I got whenever we would hang out and she would wear more tight-fitting clothes or shorter shorts. High school was when it got very awkward between us when she confessed to me out of the blue and I had to tell her that she was like a sister to me. Things were rough for a couple of weeks but we made an effort to go back to normal and stay as friends.

Wakana got off her bike and motions for us to keep walking, "You finally done with practice for today?" She asks.

I nod and we continue down the street. Some of the street lights were coming on as the sun sets to make a gorgeous orange and red backsplash. We talk about baseball and she lectures me on why I didn't go to a school that was for baseball. I shrugged because that was a question that I kept asking myself ever since my third year at middle school.

We made it to my house and I just waved to Wakana and told her goodnight. Sometimes being around her makes me feel like a complete jerk but what could I have done differently. If I did just follow along with her fantasy of dating me it would have hurt her in the long run.

The bag of my baseball equipment felt more like a weight on my shoulders than it was before as I walked toward my family farm.

-

I was finished with my shower when I walked into my room to wait until I was called for dinner.

The whole house would have an aroma of whatever my mother decided to cook. It was always like that in this house, this warm, inviting feeling that I don't think I could find anywhere else.

To me it doesn't matter how little money that we had, we had each other and that was enough.

I began to rub the ratted old bleach stained towel in my shaggy hair, I looked at my bedside table and paused for a moment.

I always had this fight within myself every night. But each night ended exactly the same. Sighing to myself I strode over to my bedside table and pulled at the drawer. Inside of the drawer, I pulled out all the articles and sports clippings of Miyuki Kazuya and scattered them onto my bed. This was my biggest secret. My little crush on a professional baseball player. Maybe it was the way that he was able to fulfill my dream that I denied myself. Maybe it was the way the light shone against his face, making his eyes glitter an amber gold. Maybe it was the cut of his jaw and those sinful lips lifted up into a smirk that makes my heart stutter every time even when I try and deny myself that reaction.

I bring the towel to my face and groan loudly into the damp cotton. God. It was so embarrassing that this one person made me feel this way. Just how many nights have I fantasized about Miyuki Kazuya and acted on those fantasies?

My mind thought of all those times and mentally counted them and...shit. It was too many times.

Throwing the towel towards my hamper, I turned back to my bed and looked at the pile of papers. I sifted through them all until I came across the oldest article. The article of when he was a freshman in high school and the writer asking the question of Miyuki's ability to lead his team to victory. He truly was an amazing player, able to bring out the pictures abilities as well as making a statement with his batting.

I crawl onto my bed and place the other clippings back to their respective drawer, leaving the yellowing page in my hands.

I felt like an excessive fangirl when I let myself stare at this article. This was the article that made me decide, at first, that I was going to go to Seido. But when gramps got in a car accident and was unable to work and help with mom and dad on the farm, I knew that I couldn't be selfish.

What would my life have been like going to school with him? I bet that he would have been as charming as all those postgame interviews. He would praise me on my amazing pitches and then...God I was doing it again.

My thumb trailed over the picture of Miyuki, starting from his stomach where he'd have the beginnings of his abs, moving up to his broad chest. Moving over those strong and reliable shoulders that could throw balls to second base so fast it looked like the ball teloporated. Finally, my thumb grazed over his neck and circled around his face. Even when he was as young as he is in this picture, it was still my favorite, because it was my first article and my most treasured.

"Oh Kazuya," I breathe out and my legs begin to tighten with anticipation.

My mind imagines his large hands grasping my hips and letting his thumbs graze the skin at the top of my sweats. His chest would be pushed against mine because he'd want me to be so close to him as possible. His tongue would lick at my neck and my heart starts to beat faster as my hand comes to the hem of sweats and pushes in.

Miyuki would drag his tongue up until he is to my ear and he'd speak with such eagerness and confidence, "_Do you want me to wreck you, Eijun?"_

My hand grasps its target and I moan and push my face into the pillow, because it's just right. My hand starts at a pace that I've mastered over the few months, twisting and grazing everyplace that felt right. But tonight, I wanted to do something different.

Biting into the pillow, my right hand grabs my phone and I pull up just a random video of Miyuki giving a aftergame view. I needed to hear his voice, see his lips curl into that smirk and…

"Eijun, dinner is ready."

Fuck.

I can't go to dinner not finishing and having myself be half hard in front of my family.

I place my plans for my fantasies to the back of my head and save them for another night.

My hand quickens to a brutal pace and my eyes fall to the amber eyes on the paper and when my thumb swipes over the head, I fall over and cry out Miyuki's name over and over.

When I am coming down from my high, my face is on the article. I sigh as I pull my hand free and wipe the evidence of my shame on the towel.

Every night I had cum from just my stupid fanboy fantasies of a man who will never know I exist.

After washing my hands, I go downstairs to the dinning room where my mother, father, and grandfather are already sitting.

"What took you so long, Eijun? Don't tell me you fell asleep after your shower you lazy boy!" My grandpa smacks the back of my head and I yelp.

"Watch yourself oldman, I wasn't sleeping."

My mother smiles and passes me my rice bowl that is overflowing with fluffy rice. "You must be tired after coaching."

I would always get the feeling that my mother knew exactly why I stayed in Nagano, and though she was overjoyed to have me home, she knew I was never completely happy giving up baseball entirely. She never pressed me for answers, but she never really had to. It was like her mother's instincts just knew and she was as supportive as she had to be.

"Bah, when I was his age, I had so much energy that I worked until dusk everyday." Grandpa snorts and then sips loudly at his miso soup.

My dad places his chopsticks down and glanced around the small wooden table, "Actually there's something that needs to be discussed about working on the farm."

Grandpa stops his slurping and looks at his son curiously. My mom places a hand over my fathers and there shared expression spoke volumes.

I was always envious of my parents' relationship. They were high school sweethearts and got married after high school. They always were honest with one another and treated each other as equals, even when mom would do the traditional "Japanese wife" chores around the house. I always wanted something like that. But I never found anyone that caught my interest so I missed the high school sweetheart but I was still young enough. I still had time.

"Well, out with it." Grandpa never did like waiting.

Dad took a sip of his beer and swallowed, "It's about a new community service volunteer," dad began. "He's doing community service here to fulfill a court order."

Grandpa laughed, "That's not anything new. We've had many court ordered cases come through before. Why do you seem so unsure of this one? He a murderer or something?" Grandpa laughed and took a bite of his fish.

My dad's face didn't lighten much but he did sigh.

Over the years, we had many different kinds of people help around the farm. Grandpa was a firm believer in second chances and was always willing to have people who needed service to help out. When I was younger, mom wasn't too keen on having "criminals" being around her young baby. But when I got older and I helped out around and nothing bad ever happened to me, she lightened up over the years.

Dad's lips tightened, "No, he's nothing like that. But you might not like what could happen when he is here."

"For God sakes boy, spit it out. Who's coming to the farm, huh?"

"It's Miyuki Kazuya."

I began choking on the rice I was eating. My lungs were on fire with how much I'm coughing. My dad did not just say what I think he said.

"Eijun! Are you alright?" Mom patted my back then rubbed in slow circles.

I coughed a few more times and drank my water to help make sure everything went down, "I-I'm fine. I was just surprised and I swallowed when I wasn't ready."

I turned to my dad and scratch the back of my head and laughed, "I thought I heard Dad say that the Miyuki Kazuya, brilliant catcher of all time was coming to our farm."

Dad's expression didn't even flinch into a smirk, "He was involved in a car accident were he was intoxicated. He did some public damage, and so the judge ordered that he'd do community service for six months."

My heart fluttered in my chest and I blinked, my mouth agape, "I-is he alright? T-to work I mean." My mind was coming up with thought a mile a minute. What if he had an injury that could end his baseball career? How did this action affect his career? Why did he do it?

Grandpa banged his fist onto the table, "Would you wipe that stupid look off your face, boy. If he's coming to work here he must be alright enough to work."

Dinner finished up with silence between the family members. When I was finished, I carried my dishes to the sink and left to go upstairs. I could hear my dad and grandpa murmuring stuff back and forth. But my body felt exhausted and didn't want to get involved in it.

Coming back to my bed that still had the newspaper article of Miyuki, I grabbed the article and looked at the picture.

"What made you want to drink and drive, Miyuki Kazuya?"

I placed it back into the drawer and hopped into bed. Tomorrow would be an eventful day, and I had to make sure that I didn't make a fool of myself. Not in front of the man that I fell for with one pitch.

I dozed off to the echoes of the sound from the past of a ball thwacking into a leather catchers mitt and the mantra of "nice ball".


End file.
